The tribunal found that under 2.1.1 he agreed to bowl and did bowl a deliberate no ball in the Lord’s Test.

A sanction of seven years ineligibility, two years of which are suspended on condition he commits no further breach and undertakes a programme of Anti Corruption education.

Now that Asif has been banned, England’s James Anderson no longer has a rival to the claim of being the best fast-medium, seam-and-swing bowler in international cricket.

Asif was on a par with what Anderson became during the Ashes series: a master-craftsman. And as Asif is now 28 it is highly unlikely that he will still be bowling to international standard in five years’ time — assuming his ban is not reduced, and he commits no further breach of the code.

Asif came from a poor background in Sheikhapura, about an hour’s drive from Lahore. He played tape-ball cricket in the streets, well enough to be spotted by the local Gymkhana club. He is loose and long-limbed, the right build for fast-medium bowling, and he developed all the tricks.

Try standing still and, in one hand, flicking a cricket ball 180 degrees. Asif could do that when running in, in his delivery stride, an astonishing sleight of hand that only a handful of pace bowlers — at most — have mastered.

The purpose is to reveal to the batsman the ball’s shiny side, then to deceive him by flicking the seam over.

No wonder Asif became the best fast-medium bowler that Pakistan have had – Imran, Waqar Younis and Wasim Akram having been fast bowlers, and Fazal Mahmood a medium-pacer – and the second fastest to reach 100 wickets for Pakistan, behind Waqar.

Asif’s craftsmanship was fully evident last summer in the two Tests against Australia. Seldom have top batsmen been more at sea than Australia’s top order on the first morning at Headingley when Asif bent the ball to his will, snaking it in or out, by swing or seam.

Seldom has Ponting been so deceived: outswinger, outswinger, outswinger, then the ball cutting in and the batsman so bewildered he was not even playing a shot. The perfect set-up.

By the end of the series against England, after six Tests in two months, Asif was fading — and we now know he had other things on his mind at Lord’s.

If he had a bowling weakness, it was that he tended to disappear when the opposition’s total passed 300. But that he was a master of his craft is beyond all reasonable doubt.

Salman Butt, 26

Under article 2.4.2 he failed to disclose the approach by Mr Majeed that he should bat out a maiden over in the Oval Test. He was also party to the bowling of the deliberate no balls by Asif and Amir.

Not since the 1990s have Pakistan had a consistent opening pair of batsmen, or even one consistent opener. But Salman Butt came closer than anybody else to filling the void — and he has a chance of returning to the role of Pakistan’s opening batsman in September 2015.

That is assuming he does not commit a further breach of the code, and undertakes the unspecified programme of Anti Corruption education that the Pakistan Cricket Board — of all people — is obliged to give him.

Butt, in that case, will be only 31 when his period of ineligibility expires – young enough for him to return to international cricket while he is absent, provided he keeps himself in good shape and training. He will not, however, be allowed to play in any competitive cricket matches in any country belonging to the ICC in the meantime.

Like almost all of Pakistan’s Test batsmen, though not bowlers, Butt came from a middle-class background. He is a Punjabi from Lahore, the largest ethnic grouping in the recent Pakistan side, outnumbering the players from Karachi and the Pashtuns.

Butt went through the Beaconhouse education system in Lahore and university, then became a more regular opening batsman than anyone else after Aamir Sohail and Saeed Anwar: a left-hander who favoured the off-side and accumulated off his legs.

He was dashing enough to play in the shorter formats and obtain an Indian Premier League contract in its first year, when it was not covered by the Anti Corruption and Security Unit.

Urban and outwardly urbane, Butt also became vice-captain and a candidate to succeed Shahid Afridi when that maverick was made Pakistan’s Test captain — for, as it turned out, one match only.

And what a brilliant impression Butt made when he took over, defeating Australia at Headingley in his first Test in charge. He had batted superbly against them at Lord’s, top-scoring with 92, and when he took command at Headingley he not only captained superbly as Australia were shot out for 88 but shared an opening stand with Imran Farhat that almost, in itself, gave Pakistan the lead.

As his captaincy wore on, the runs dried up. It is often the case with Test captains: the appointment is initially a spur, then a burden as the runs dry up. But now we know that Butt had a lot more than captaincy on his mind in the Oval and Lord’s Tests.

It is another tragedy for Pakistan cricket. Butt shaped like a very good leader. In his first four Tests he beat Australia and England, before the Lord’s Test.

He looked calm and poised in the field, and spoke as a captain should, dedicating Pakistan’s victory at Headingley to the people back home who had suffered in Pakistan’s floods. Then Butt, too, was engulfed — but not, as he might have feared, for life.

Mohammad Amir, 18

The tribunal found that under Article 2.1.1. he agreed to bowl and did bowl two deliberate no balls in the Lord’s Test.

A sanction of five years ineligibility Amir is the biggest single loss there could be, and not only to Pakistan cricket. It is safe to say there is – or was – no more promising young cricketer in the world. He had everything: youth, left-handedness, pace, a command of swing and reverse-swing. He had self-confidence too, and boyish good looks, and batting ability.

But for the next five years — unless his ban is reduced on appeal – it will be his fast-medium left-arm swing that will be missed the most. On the Friday morning at Lord’s, when he bowled the second of his deliberate no-balls, he ran though England’s batsmen, taking four wickets without conceding a run, in one of the all-time Test match spells of swing bowling.

Amir had to bowl himself out of the Punjabi rural equivalent of the ghetto.

Changa Bangyaal is barely a village, a cluster of a dozen or so mud-brick single-storey houses surrounded by fields, an hour or so’s drive south-south-east from Rawalpindi.

Like most Pakistani boys who are not middle-class, Amir learned to play cricket with a taped tennis ball. In the alleyways of Changa Bangyaal he had a choice of six siblings to bowl against, even if the equipment was rudimentary.

But as soon as Amir was spotted, everyone could see he was going to be a winner. He was supposedly 16 when he took more than 50 wickets in his debut first-class season. He was playing for Pakistan at the official age of 17 and an integral part of their side that won the first World Twenty20 in the 2008 final at Lord’s.

Last summer Amir took 11 wickets in the two Tests against Australia, followed by 19 wickets at only 18 runs each against England, making him Pakistan’s player of the series. So young he was, and yet so versatile. He rolled over Australia at Headingley with conventional swing over the wicket, then England at the Oval with reverse-swing from round the wicket.

On that Friday at Lord’s, when he tore through England, he set a record by becoming the youngest bowler to take five wickets in a Test innings in England, and the youngest to reach 50 Test wickets.

Until September 2015, as his sentence stands, he will be allowed to bowl in the alleyways against his brothers and sisters, but not in any official cricket match. It is a waste, but not a permanent one. As he will be only 23 on his return he could, if he keeps himself fit in the meantime, have even better years ahead of him — if not as a magical swing bowler then maybe as an all-rounder.